


The white flame and the wolf - kinktober 2019 Drabble

by Ceandre



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Against a Wall, Angry Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Balcony Sex, Bath Sex, Begging, Breathplay, Clothes On, Come Swallowing, Dom/sub, Drabble Collection, Edgeplay, Emhyr var Emreis is his own warning, Fisting, Hair Pulling, Impact Play, Kinktober 2019, M/M, On the Throne, Overstimulation, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Rimming, Role Reversal, Sex Toys, Shibari, Spanking, Spit Kink, Vanilla, almost getting caught, bukkake but actually not, candle play, geralt/emhyr/regis, hierophilia, just one man coming on another man's face, monster fucking, some of them are set in Modern AU, wasn't in the mood to write an orgy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2020-12-09 12:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20994629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceandre/pseuds/Ceandre
Summary: 31 drabbles for kinktober 2019. A lot of them aren't explicit. Emhyr is a dick and Geralt has a thing for dominant, powerful and selfish people. (Will probably not be finished by the end of October)Drabble 22: Breath PlayDrabble 23: Angry Sex





	1. Phone sex

  
  
The street was immersed in profound darkness, a perfect lair for a monster. Geralt was following the creature trail when his headset started ringing.

“Who's that?” He muttered.

“You are busy, how unaccommodating.”

Geralt stumbled, recognizing the voice. He swore.

“Emhyr.”

“Please, do keep working. Let see how you handle the situation while I indulge myself.”

“What?”

The monster stepped from a container, and Geralt went still as he heard a soft small sigh of pleasure followed by his name. No. _ No_. Emhyr _wouldn't. _

“If you were to end this fight quickly, I might let you facetime while I come.”


	2. Candle play

Emhyr was laying on crimson sheets, his head resting on his arms. From where he stood, Geralt admired the back offered to his eyes. Pale and lean, covered in long scars that he slowly followed with his fingers. Emhyr shifted.

“Please, do not feel the need to get all sentimental on me.”

Geralt laughed softly and grabbed a candle on the nightstand.

“If only tonight wasn't made for that.” He muttered and poured the warm oil from the candle along his lover's spine. His hands came to the tensed muscle, spreading the oil with vigorous movement. “Taking care of you.”


	3. Role reversal

When Geralt asked for this, it wasn't really how he pictured it. But then, how foolish of him to thought even for one second that Emhyr had one submissive bone in his body.

“You know-” Geralt tried, his hand roaming over his lover's hips. “It's not really what I meant by role reversal."

He took a deep breath when Emhyr smiled and contracted strongly around his cock.

“Mh. How unfortunate,” Emhyr answered, noncommittal, his head leaning slightly. For a moment he stared into Geralt eyes. Whatever he saw made him frown. “Don't you dare, you will not come before me.”


	4. Begging

“Please, please. I'll do anything, fuck. Emhyr. I need you.”

Emhyr stared into his lover's eyes and rolled his own. He sighed almost as in despair and sat on the bed. Geralt shifted and sat too, frowning.

“What?” He asked, annoyed. "I did beg."

Emyhr gently patted the sheet between his thighs. “Come here.” He said and kissed Geralt's jaw when the man straddled him. His lips followed their trail until they reached an ear that he bit before he spoke, low. “The purpose of this game is that you shouldn't beg the first second after I order you to.”


	5. Clothes on

There wasn't a single good explanation for nilfgaardian's fashion, Geralt was quite sure of that; unless the explanation was to prove how much of a pain in the ass the whole nation could be. Nilfgardian's clothes sucked and removing them in less than fifteen minutes was a national feat. That's why he said to Emhyr one day: been there, done that, let's fuck with clothes on.

Emhyr has been doubtful first when Geralt has started to raise his doublet and tunic but he seemed to have thrown away any objections; his hands firmly on Geralt's hips and cock, kissing him.


	6. Hierophilia

Geralt could have sworn Emhyr var Emreis's incredible brain wasn't limited in his plot by anything; moral, faith, sentiments. Yet, he found himself laying down on the bed, breathless, as Emhyr entered him with fervour. Awe was written all over Emhyr's face, his dark eyes never once leaving the golden sun pendant laying on Geralt's chest.

Emhyr only met yellow eyes when his name was moaned in pleasure, and he suddenly leaned to face Geralt, claiming open lips with his own, breathing heavily, biting without care and in the last thrust, came inside his lover with a prayer, _ Ard Feainn _.


	7. Praise kink

They were in bed, Emhyr busy with reports, Geralt trying his best to argue to turn off the stupid light. Unfortunately, Geralt knew when a battle wasn't worth fighting, and he eventually sighed turning his head against Emhyr's left hips, hiding from the light.

Later Emhyr put his work aside and loomed over Geralt, kissing him.

“You did good tonight.” He muttered. “Even if it's hard for you, I'm very pleased, so silent and perfect for me.” He leaned back for a second and stopped when he saw Geralt's eyes wild open dilated as they can be, dark with lust.


	8. Theme of the day was bukkake, but it's not, not really

It took a single glance from Emhyr for Geralt to regret their affair. Dark eyes were staring into his own, the emperor frowning with his usual look, the; I am going to end your life slowly and painfully.

And Geralt would have apologized, wanted to, but was well aware of the terrible laugh that would take his voice if he dared to open his mouth. So he kept as still as possible, a part of his brain stupid enough to think that playing dead was a good idea.

Between his thighs, Emhyr whipped the cum off his face. “You dared.”


	9. Fisting

It has been a terrible idea. Emhyr was usually a passionate lover, greedy and daring, he loved rimming, and could spend hours spreading Geralt wild open on his fingers. So when Geralt brought up fisting he had no reason to think Emhyr would be rebuked and he wasn't, Geralt was.

On all four, head hidden in his arms, he let out a small grunt of displeasure. Emhyr was utterly clinic about the act, and Geralt could scent he wasn't aroused and that only was a turn-off.

Eventually, Emhyr stopped and patted his back.

"You don't like it."

"Well, you don't."


	10. Rimming

If Geralt had Dandelion talent for words, he would spend days writing ballads praising Emhyr's tongue. He would emphasize the power it held, how it wields words as weapons, could bring men to their feet and in some occasions reduce Geralt to a mess of sensations. He wriggled, back on the desk, his head hanging in thin air, gasping.

Firm hands were gripping his thighs and hips, keeping him in place, while a skilful tongue entered him relentlessly. Geralt gripped the edge of the desk, helpless. He drew a breath and grabbed his cock, keeping himself from coming so soon.


	11. Balcony sex

Emhyr was positively and utterly aroused. Geralt could scent it, heavy, all around him. It made him dizzy with want, hard and ready. It was maybe why he indulged the emperor with such an unusual demand and found himself knees and elbows on the balcony's stone. One look at the Emperor's chamber could expose them, divulge their affair to all Nilfgaard.

That Emhyr was turned on by such thought, by the cheer idea to bring their relation public, broke Geralt in a new and unexpected way. He closed his mouth with despair, swallowing three unwelcome little words. No, _not yet_.


	12. Spit kink

The sound of his quill running along the paper was Emhyr's only solace as he tried to ignore Geralt's travel bag on the ground. The man was leaving, wintering at Kaer Morhen. He put his quill aside when the door opened to let Geralt in the room.

A deep and violent feeling roamed inside his guts as Geralt grabbed his gear. He clenched his jaw, knowing blood will ensue if he was to speak. He instead stood and reached for Geralt's head, lowering it, lips looming over lips.

"Open for me." He said, then spat.

Geralt swallowed and smiled knowingly.


	13. Hair pulling

Geralt was glad to be back. He could not care less for the city of golden towers, for the palace and all the nobility but he missed the small bedroom where he and Emhyr slept together.

  
  
He sprawled some more on the sheet, stretching the stillness away and closed his eyes again. A warm hand came to his hair, playing with some white strands, pulling slightly and smoothing afterwards.

  
  
His scalp tingled as a vivid reminder of how Emhyr held and pulled his hairs while they fucked today. He loved for Emhyr to become so undone, to forget his composure.


	14. Rope play

  
When Geralt has brought ropes in their bedroom, he hadn't thought much about it. He loved them and had let Eskel tie him numerous time over the years. It might be careless of him to put so much trust in Emhyr, but he did. Never once it occurred to him that Emhyr could find a reason to object in this particular practice.

  
  
Yet Emhyr stared at him like Geralt as asked him to cut off his arm and Geralt could smell his fear. He blinked, realizing why, and held out a hand to throw away the ropes. So, no restraints.  



	15. Toys

Geralt flirted a second with the idea of closing Emhyr's laptop. It would bring him attention, but not the kind he wanted anyway. So he settled for sitting on the man's desk, near enough to annoy him.

Eyes still levelled on his work, Emhyr spoke. "What do you need?"  
  
Geralt eyes rolled. So much for asking attention.  
  
"Let's fuck."  
  
Not a reaction. Emhyr hands kept working on his keyboard. "I'm busy."  
  
"It's been days." Geralt complained.  
  
"And I am still busy. We have toys, use them."  
  
Great, now they were both annoyed. "I'll show you toys."  
  
Emhyr hummed. "Maybe later."


	16. Impact play

It felt like being revered, to be under the scrutiny of Emhyr var Emreis's entire attention. Such thought must be profane, yet, there was something divine in Emhyr's way, as each impact slowly led Geralt to a sweet rapture.

And he fell and fell again at each blow, scattering in tiny pieces beneath a sharp stare. For him to break in numerous forms, his body handled under undivided care; It was all he needed to knew what God-fearing felt like.

For that hand who ravaged him and shaped him again, who before held no power over him, might discard him.


	17. Monster fucking

Not for the first time in the evening, Emhyr wondered where he misstepped. Pondering about it wouldn't change his situation, but he found himself rather happy to concentrate on something else than Regis and Geralt fucking above him.

Geralt seemed to enjoy himself, at least, one of them was happy. Though, Emhyr_ wasn't_ genuinely unhappy, only merely uncertain about his life's choices. A strand of hair fell on his face when Geralt collapsed on him with a moan. Above them, the vampire smirked proudly as Emhyr's eyes lingered longer than necessary on his ridged cock.

He will think about it.


	18. Sub/Dom

It was Geralt who made the first step, leaning in for a simple kiss. He thought them on the same page, the one entitled: _Let's fuck. _But Emhyr pushed him away gently, a hand on Geralt's chest that he kept staring at while looking for words.

"I am not an easy man to please." He eventually said.

"Uh-uh."

Emhyr frowned and shook his head. "I can't give you what you need."

"The thing is," Geralt said as he knelt between Emhyr's legs. "I think _we _can." He leaned his head and smiled. "_The reasons I'll give you to punish me._"


	19. Spanking

When Geralt came back from his short -Gonna kill a monster or two- travel, his clothes soaked in blood and dirt, he didn't especially expect to be almost thrown in Emhyr's office by heavily armed guards.  
  
"What the fuck was that?" He grumbled, his head following the closing door.  
  
"This, witcher, is people following orders," Emhyr uttered, cold anger in his voice. "A talent you lack."  
  
"I only left for two days."  
  
Geralt eyes widened when Emhyr embraced him, ignoring blood and dirt.  
  
"52 blows," Emhyr muttered in his ears, still angrily, "for 52 hours. It is what you deserve."


	20. Edging

"Uh-No." Geralt breathed. He was on the verge of coming again, and he saw the look on his lover's face. "Come on Emhyr! It's been-been..."

"One hour and twenty-two minutes." Supplied Emhyr, a hand still and firmly closed against Geralt's cock, keeping him from coming. "You can do better than that."

In no way, Geralt was about to admit out loud that controlling himself while with Emhyr felt nearly impossible. There were things even the trials couldn't cut off, and Geralt's need for closeness entered the category. Except for higher pain tolerance and agility, he was no witcher in bed.


	21. overstimulation

"Uhh- _This_, this is a lot." Geralt shifted, his hand gripping Emhyr's. The man looked at him with curious eyes, and let Geralt move his hand away from his cock.

Emhyr hummed, whipped away some sweat on his lover's face and rocked his hips, slowly. He earned a small yelp, Geralt's body retracted on instinct.

"It is too much." He noted, almost mesmerized.

Geralt groaned. "You think?"

Silence answered him and he moved, trying to get a good look on his lover.

"Emhyr?"

Emhyr moved again, sharply this time. Geralt whined and drew back again.

"_I like it_." Mouthed Emhyr.


	22. Breath Play

There was something beautiful in the way redness spread against Emhyr's neck and face. The man's lips opened in a silent plea for air, yet, not a sound escaped them.

Under the Emperor, Geralt moaned deeply at each clumsy thrusts inside him. A hand grabbing the sheets and another delicately placed above Emhyr's collarbone, cutting off breath.

It was getting harder for Emhyr to perform, Geralt could see it, feel it. The hands holding him were loosening their grip, hips moving with less intent. Yet, Geralt was on the edge of coming, holding Emhyr's life and trust between his fingers.


	23. angry sex

The night has been a particular disaster, Geralt could see it now, blood running fast in his veins, still seeing red but coming back his senses. Yet, he didn't let go of his vicious hold on Emhyr's arm nor removed his teeth from the chunk of flesh they ended in.

Emhyr was so clearly hurting, his arm at the limit of breaking, blood running from his neck. Despite the pain he kept fucking Geralt, his eyes fixed on a single point before him.

They both hated this, Geralt thought. Both hated how hopeless and futile loving each other was sometimes.


End file.
